Monday, December 28, 2009

Up (USA, 2009, Docter, Peterson)


Up is not only one of the year's best films, it is also one of Pixar's most emotionally satisfying creations. Which is to say, it is a great piece of animated cinema. The film opens with an emotional steamroller of a ten minute prologue that takes us from the childhood to senescence of our main character Carl Fredrickson (the gruff-voiced Ed Asner), from the first blush of love to the heartbreak cast by death's shadow,  imbuing the story with enough honestly bought pathos to fuel the rest of the narrative. Speaking of which, the story proceeds apace, awash in remarkable imagery, locking down its emotional vision, and keenly targetting its thematic concerns, for much of the remaining 80 minutes. Up is an artfully rendered tale of life's hard won lessons, blending an action film for ageing boomers with a romance for the ages in order to create a study in letting go that could give Zen monks pause to contemplate.


When we first meet Carl in the aforementioned prologue, he is a slightly dweebish and timidly adventurous young man who, through a delightful series of events, winds up meeting and falling for a more garrulous and spirited Elie. When he promises her that he will one day show her the world, little did he realize, as we who make such wishes while basking in the glow of endless possibilities that we call youth, the life would find a way to conspire to delay his fulfilment of such a promise until it is too late. After spending his selling helium balloons to children and cavorting with Elie, you would think Carl would be a happy man, but he realizes too late that he has not taken his wife on any of those adventures he had promised in the rashness of his youth. Elie's death leaves Carl broken-hearted and lonely, but more importantly, it leaves him feeling as though he has not been the man his beloved Elie deserved, for he wasn't able to make her dreams come true. Faced with the prospects of losing his home to developers, Carl embarks on a mad scheme. He decides to fly up up and away in his beautiful balloons, and leave this troubled world far, far behind him.

All this in the opening act of the story would have to leave one wondering where Pixar's dream team of Pete Docter and Bob Peterson (whose writing credits include both Toy Story's, Finding Nemo, Monster's Inc., Ratatouille and WALL-E) were going. It's a rather bold move to make the hero of your children's story older than Moses, float away on a bunch of helium balloons and land in an unknown land (the Milton-inspired Paradise Falls, which appears to be not only a place, but a direction and an indication of Carl's ambitions, if you get my drift) where he would end up running into an even OLDER character, Carl's childhood hero, explorer Charles Muntz (Christopher Plummer). Not only that, but to then have Carl's ertswhile idol end up as his nemesis and have the two geezers engage in a round of fisticuffs that would prove both rousing and hilarious. All of which is to suggest that the Docter and Peterson are not exactly playing it safe or doing it by the book in Up. This is a film that soars above and beyond the predictable, that takes us to new territory, a land of wonder and quirkiness.


Up is certainly brave, and emotionally heartfelt, but it is also a film of some thoughtfulness. Watching Carl as he carries his house around this land surrounding Paradise Falls like an albatross, like Atlas carting the weight of his entire life on his shoulders, reminiscent of Grace in von Trier's Dogville, or the Buddhist monk in Kim Ki-Duk's exquisite Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...and Spring Again is as evocative and heart-rending an piece of animation as I can recall. Carl must learn, through confronting the promises of his youth and the dreams of his childhood, that letting go of such idealism is the key to having something tangible to hold onto now, in this world.

It's all mighty heady stuff for a so-called family picture, but damned if Docter and Peterson don't pull it off. Even while carrying around such apparently heavy thematic baggage, the story keeps trucking along, the characters keep tugging away at our sympathies, and Up never risks losing our affection. Up is one of Pixar's finest work, and that really is saying something.




Here's a featurette for your edification.


7 comments:

Ben Livant said...

I hadn't seen a Pixar production since Toy Story, so I cannot compare UP to all their offerings since TS. What is more, or less as the case may be, I am not well versed in the fantasy film genre, animated or otherwise. This admitted, after reading your glowing review, I find myself thinking that this film has impressed you so much because it is a cartoon.

What is it specifically about animation that no other cinematic experience can provide? Prior to the advent of CGI, this question simply never came up because it was obvious that only animation could render the most fantastic images visible. But with the advent of CGI, it is now possible to "paint" into live action whatever fantasy you can imagine. So what makes animation special today? How do we experience animation differently than CGI paintings inserted into live action? What is the continuing source of cartoons' unique aesthetic power?

My answer is that a cartoon immediately signals make-believe. Animation is an automatic and consistent semiotic for fictitious cognition. This is why it is considered to be the most appropriate medium for young children. It provides a sort of safe zone, where anything fun can happen because it is only pretend anyway. The fact that it is perfectly possible to produce journalism or horror or pornography or whatever in cartoons does not detract from the point. The essential requirement of fiction is the willing suspension of disbelief and animation necessarily achieves this suspension from the get-go.

I propose that if UP had been crafted with CGI as a live-action film - the same in every other respect - you would have been much less impressed by it. Personally, I find your assessment of UP way out of proportion to it's merits. The admittedly charming and entertaining characterizations and narrative are for me not such remarkable creations, and I reckon that the picture's touching thematic intelligence you have inflated beyond the actual dimensions achieved.

In my estimation, you are exaggerating the virtues of the film because they occur in the cognitive context of animation. I am not suggesting that "cartoons are for kids," so UP is unworthy of adult appreciation. I am saying that UP benefits from residing in the safe zone where it's fictitious nature is never in doubt; it's status as fantasy is never vulnerable to reverse skepticism; there is no threat to the aesthetic that "reality" will suddenly show up and spoil the fun. I propose that it is in this cognitive context that you have found UP more profound than it is. And I cried more than once watching the darn thing.

Then - Ben

Dan Jardine said...

Sez you.

Frankly, you undermine your own argument when you say that you cried more than once during the film. If you wept, it was real for you. And I wept as well. The film, whether it is "make believe" or not, is damned moving, and smart, and full of thematic depth. And I posit that I am quite aware that ALL films are make believe when I sit down to watch 'em, so that doesn't really enter into my critical analysis much (if) at all.

Ben Livant said...

Like all good romantics, you conflate emotional experience with intellectual reflection on that experience. You also make a statement which borders on nonsense when you proclaim that all films are make-believe, when you know perfectly well that there is documentary and cinema verite and so on. Most of all, you seem to think that I was putting UP down for being a cartoon insofar as cartoons are necessarily fictitious.

Rather than this, I was trying to say that compared to live-action, cartoons have a leg up when it comes to fiction precisely because they are obviously so. The immediate establishment of the fictitious realm is a tremendous advantage for any sort of fantasy, which can then achieve an affective level beyond that of live-action fantasy. Perhaps this thesis of mine is wrong. But the emotional response UP elicited from you and from me too does not undermine my argument, as you mistakenly assert; rather, it substantiates it.


Truth be told though, I am less interested in UP than in the cultural/aesthetic/epistemological status of post-CGI animation. I trust you agree with me that what was once the exclusive imaginative province of animated cinema is today possible to portray in live-action film. So the choice not to do so, to go for a cartoon instead, this calls out for explanation.

Then - Ben

Dan Jardine said...

I have no trouble with conflating emotional reaction and intellectual reflection, so I guess I am a "good romantic." They inform each other, and I am fine with allowing them to fuse in my responses to a film.

As for the rest, I was speaking of fiction films, not docs, just to make that part of my thesis clear. But there are so many types of documentaries that bleed over into the realm of fiction (going as far back as Vertov's Man with a Movie Camera, coming as far forward as the films of Errol Morris) that even that line in the sand is getting hard to discern. I'm not exactly sure how the fact that the film has such powerful emotional resonance hurts my interpretation or helps yours. Perhaps I'm being obtuse.

And yes, I reckon it is a worthy subject of study. Surely some film studies student somewhere in academia must be looking at this.

Ben Livant said...

Perhaps you are being obtuse. So let's look at this from another angle, even if it turns out to be acute. Actually, I rhetorically flew by the following consideration already but let me land on it logically now.

If UP had not been animated but had been CGI live-action instead, I maintain that it would not have "worked," at least not as well; i.e., had such a powerful emotional resonance. Granted, this argumentative approach is counter-factual; there is no live-action version of UP with which to test my hypothesis. But if you are willing to allow that it is at least plausible, then the powerful emotional resonance of the actually existing, animated UP is proof for my position.

As for the rest of your comments, nothing I said precluded the interpenetration of heart and mind in general and subjective and objective perspectives in cinematic artifice in particular. You would drag me down a twisty road of deep ontology when all I am trying to do is walk a straight line along a much more superficial ontological pathway.

What I am addressing is the visual truth-telling potential or epistemological trustworthiness of animated fiction in contradistinction to the new technological ability to fabricate photographic "facts." It is impossible to experience a cartoon as virtual reality. It would be universally regarded as insane to complain that the imagery of a given animation is not life-like or visually convincing, as viewers sometimes do when watching CGI action movies. Paranoid conspiracy theorists worry that it's not actual footage of Obama on the evening news, the genuine physical article occupying real space and happening in real time. This worry over the illusory public avatar is impossible to even generate, never mind maintain, if instead of a photo the sign of the entity is a drawn picture. The direct visual signal animation gives of itself as fiction is, ironically, solid cognitive ground in our otherwise suspect flat-screen field of vision.

I am suggesting that this solid cognitive ground conditions our powerful emotion resonance with animation. Simply put, we trust it. We consider it safe to be affected by it because we are so certain that it is fiction. Live-action CGI, on the other hand, arouses suspicion. Rather than keeping skepticism at bay, photographic simulations compel the critical faculty to bear witness in order to question the interface of these simulations and the photographed reality. This brings the fantasy construction as a whole into question and puts the affective power of it at risk. It's unintended Brechtian disillusionment, as it were.

I concede that I haven't filled in all the psychological blanks. But since you are sure that some film studies student somewhere in academia is looking at this, I will leave some stones for this student to turn over.

Then - Ben

Dan Jardine said...

Ben, you lost me at "contradistinction." Any chance you can dumb it down for me?

Ben Livant said...

But it gets dumber right after "contradistinction" Dan. Any chance you could carry on from there?

Then - Ben